


Opia

by RadioScientist



Category: Oryx and Crake - Margaret Atwood
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/M, M/M, basically everything is sad and it all hurts, this is for all 3 fans of Oryx and Crake out there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 06:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6842356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadioScientist/pseuds/RadioScientist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snowman's memories still haunt him, but this time it isn't Oryx who comes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opia

_**Opia** : The ambiguous intensity from looking someone in the eye._

 

Snowman awoke to the chirping of assorted bugs, and the wan light of the quarter moon in the sky. Night. He squinted through the branches of the tree he was currently sleeping in; staring at the moon until his eyes watered, and the world became blurred. He wished he could do the same with his mind, maybe find a bottle of something to silence it for a while. It was at night that his memories haunted him most, and he was powerless to stop them.

He could have tried to go back to sleep, but knew it would have been pointless. He was long since used to having to snap awake when the moment called for it, and he didn't need another task to remind himself how far he'd come, of how much he'd had to change and adapt. It was better to lie still, to accept the ghosts as they came.

He'd expected Oryx, to be honest. He was prepared to deal with her, accepted how it felt to have her haunting him, with her graceful limbs and the almost playful edge to her smile, and the way she could slip so smoothly away from him, like water running through his fingers and just out of his reach. Other times she came to him solid, scarlet-drenched like she'd had bouquets of flowers bursting from her smooth, slender throat, her skin pale like his namesake, a sorrow in her cold eyes. She'd whisper accusations at him then. _“Why didn't you help me, Jimmy?”_ she'd breathe, her voice melding with the wind, and he wouldn't be sure which one was causing him to shiver.

He was used to it. He'd long since run out of energy to properly grieve her, he could only accept her as she came. Each sighting kept him company, anyway. He could put up with it for that. God, it was tragic, wasn't it? The crazy prophet and his ghosts, the ghosts of his long-dead love. If the Crakers had been hard-wired for poetry and philosophy, then they may have found something romantic about the notion. As it stood, they didn't. These had been taken from them long before they had existed. They appreciated his stories of their creators though, the tall tales he told of both of them. He took no small amount of petty joy from the fact that it wasn't how their designer would have wanted it.

As he shifted uncomfortably from where one of the branches was poking him, Snowman impatiently waited for Oryx to come to him, for either the dreams or the nightmares to follow, depending on which Oryx would haunt him. He felt a breath beside him, and, turning around, for the first time in a long time he saw Crake.

He could feel himself stilling as his eyes roamed the other man's body, taking in his wiry frame, his dark, nondescript clothing, his brilliant green eyes, the perpetually messy hair. His breath caught. He wanted to be angry, he truly did, and deep down he was still angry at Crake, he was furious. But the emotion seemed so out of place tonight, and it was all he could do to stare, to blink and see if the ghost went away as suddenly as he had come.

He blinked.

Crake was still there.

The bastard. Of course, he'd never came when Snowman wanted him to. Of course he never came when he was furious, when he just wanted to rage, to demand answers, to scream at this man. The one who'd left him here, who'd destroyed everything, but had left him here to deal with the fallout, had left him with nothing but the memories he couldn't escape. He'd come on his own terms, on a night when Snowman was feeling too empty and too winded to even speak, let alone unleash his anger. He should have predicted it. How fucking like him.

He waited for it to begin, harsh words, whispers of long-ago promises, of reminders about his role in Crake's death. He waited to be sneered at, perhaps he'd even get creative, bring up his fucked-up childhood, the fact that he had been unable to stop Crake's destruction of everything he had held dear, the fact that he'd been able to rip apart his life with minimal effort while he was left to deal with everything alone. He waited for it to hurt. He wasn't disappointed.

_“You're doing so well, thank you Jimmy.”_

He could feel the words digging into him, sharper than he'd thought they'd be. This wasn't what he had expected.

This was much worse.

He groaned, hiding his eyes in his hands and attempting to escape from the expression Crake was giving him. He looked so startlingly compassionate, so grateful, so ridiculously fucking gentle that he felt as though he could cry.

“This isn't fair Crake,” he whispered, muffled somewhat by his palms. “It isn't fair.”

_“I know.”_

He thought he could feel Crake move, his mind helpfully supplying him with illusions of branches dipping, the sounds of clothing shifting against bark, the hot breaths which gently caressed his fingers. He didn't want to open his eyes. He didn't want to be sucked back into Crake's manipulations. If he looked at him again, he'd be lost to his whims, he'd be stuck looking after the Crakers forever, and it'd be his own fault. He slowly opened his eyes, steeling himself for Crake to twist the knife in further. Crake had moved until he was staring right into his eyes, smiling a damnable, dizzyingly sweet smile. Snowman felt his composure wearing down, he was caught in those eyes. It hurt more than it should.

“ _I love you.”_

He wept.

**Author's Note:**

> Phew! So, thanks for reading! This is unbeta'd and it's one of my first works, so I hope it was enjoyable!


End file.
